


Damage Control

by queen_scribbles



Series: Straight Up Truth [14]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Communication, F/M, Healthy Relationships, Post-Star Wars: The Old Republic - The Nathema Conspiracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 18:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18474910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: Theron's been dreading this conversation, but It doesn't go like he's expecting.





	Damage Control

**Author's Note:**

> Long, LONG overdue post-Nathema Conspiracy Spy Nerds for y’all this fine day. (◕‿◕✿)

 

After a week and a half stuck in bed, Theron couldn’t stand it any longer. Sure maybe he “wasn’t fully healed”, but he’d healed enough it didn’t hurt(too much) to walk, and he really didn’t want to wait any longer to talk to Jaaide. Lana had spared no details on the damage he’d caused--to the Alliance in general and the woman he loved in particular--and even if he was in for a well-deserved torrent of recrimination and the loss of the very person he’d been trying to protect, he just wanted it over with. But Jaaide hadn’t set foot in the medbay since that first time he woke up. She’d been clear he was still welcome in the Alliance, but discussions of anything... _more_ than that had been tabled for later. _“When you’re feeling better,_ ” she’d said, and technically he was. Since she hadn’t been back, clearly, he would have to go to her.

So, against the doctor’s advice, he shot himself full of painkillers and limped through the halls in search of the Alliance Commander, a knot of dreadful anticipation settled firmly in his gut. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long to find her. She was in one of the staging areas, mid-holocall with what looked like an Alderaanian representative.

“....sincerely apologize for the deception, ambassador,” she said as Theron walked into earshot. “But it was vital for Agent Shan’s mission that the Order believe he had truly defected, and if I had remained silent, they would never have been convinced. Who knows what level of destruction we would be facing now had he not been successful.”

“Be that as it may, commander,” the ambassador began, holo-distortion doing nothing to mask her irritation, “Alderaan has long been a supporter of your Alliance, and we do not appreciate being misled in such a fashion. It makes some wonder if you truly value our contributions.”

Jaaide smiled tightly, and Theron could have sworn he heard her mental scream of frustration, even if none of it bled onto her face. “We value all our supporters, ambassador. This was a very closely guarded secret, though I do understand your pique. Rest assured, we will do everything in our power to ensure no such course of action is required in the future, and our allies are confident in their value to us.” She ended to call before the woman could reply, let out a long, slow breath, and rubbed her temples before turning to leave the room.

“What was that about?” Theron asked as she stepped through the doorway. He wanted to cross his arms, but the movement tugged at things still healing, so he thought the better of it. He settled for falling in step next to her as she walked.

“That?” Jaaide glanced back toward the staging room and flashed him a wan smile. “I suppose you could call it damage control...”

Her tone suggested she’d been doing a lot of it. Theron clenched his jaw. Sithspit, even _that_ hurt. Maybe he should’ve listened to that doctor... But he had bigger things to worry about right now. Like the dark circles hanging under Jaaide’s eyes, more pronounced than he’d ever seen before. “Sorry.”

She caught where his gaze lingered and shook her head, reaching over to cup his jaw with one hand. “That’s not where they came from,” she said softly, thumb stroking his cheek. “I was worried about you.” Her hand dropped, reluctantly, as she continued walking, as if she was concerned _he_ would object to its presence.  “But I couldn’t ask Lana to run things single-handed just so I could plant myself by your bedside.” Their meandering pace had carried them to a small, deserted observation deck. Jaaide leaned back against the railing and gave a tremulous smile as she added, “Badly as I may have wanted to.”

Theron sat on a nearby bench, chest tightening in a way that had nothing to do with _physical_ pain. “I wouldn’t deserve it, anyway.”

“Theron.” She was giving him _That Look_ again. “You took on an incredibly dangerous mission, _by yourself,_ absolutely no back-up, risked your life--and nearly _ **lost**_ it--to protect the Alliance.” She sat next to him, rested one hand tentatively on his knee. “To protect _me_. Why wouldn’t I worry about you?”

 _Because in the process I put your in danger myself, broke your heart, and opened you up to all manner of gossip._ He’d seen the HoloNet while he was with the Order. The aspersions cast on her judgment, the accusations she’d been blinded by love, the lost faith in the Alliance. Because of _him_. “That’s a charitable way of looking at it,” he finally muttered, letting his hands fall in his lap. He wasn’t sure what else to do with them. “And not one a lot of people share, by the way. Makes me wonder how _you_ got there.”

Jaaide turned to sit sideways on the bench. Her smile had shifted thin when he looked at her. “Did you forget I have a background in Intelligence, too? I’m very familiar with the concept of making difficult, unpleasant choices in the short term for the long term greater good.” She let out a small, scoffing laugh. “And I’m fairly certain my superiors were rather more ruthless about it than yours.”

“So, what, that’s _it_?!” Theron could hear the edge of irritation creeping in his voice and wasn’t entirely sure where it came from. _Yes, you are. You want her to be mad, to struggle with forgiving you, because you sure as hell won’t forgive **yourself** any time soon, so why should she?_ “All is forgiven, you run damage control telling the galaxy it was just a franging deep cover op-”

“It _was_ a deep cover op,” Jaaide interrupted.

“So deep I didn’t even tell Lana or... or _you_.” His voice caught, heart aching at the memory of her _face_ on Umbara. “And things are just supposed to go back to normal now? Just like that?” It couldn’t be that easy. He _didn’t deserve_ for it to be that easy.

She frowned, sitting straighter and impatiently shoving windblown hair back out of her face. “Are you... mad that I’m not mad? Did you want a heartbroken tirade about ruined trust that I’m not sure can be repaired?”

 _Not really, but I was sure as hell expecting it._  “Forgive me for recognizing the severity of my crimes,” Theron grumbled sarcastically. _One of us has to_. He wanted to push to his feet and pace, but pain shot through, well, basically all of him when he tried, so he stayed put.

“They’re not _crimes_ , Theron,” Jaaide snapped back. “They’re _choices_. Understandable, if slightly questionable choices.”

“You sound so damn _Imperial_ when you say things like that,” he muttered, running his hands over his hair.

There was a flicker, just a _millisecond_ , of pure hurt in her green eyes for that before she narrowed them at him. “Alright, Theron, talk to me. Why do you want me, or need me, to be more upset with you?”

“I...” Stars, this was going to be complicated to explain. But he owed her this and much, much more. “I saw the look in your eyes on that damn train, Jaaide. It haunted me for weeks. I don’t want you to coddle. I deserve whatever you want to throw at me.” He snorted slightly. “Maybe literally.”

Jaaide huffed a small laugh,turning back to a more normal position and reaching for his hand. “Is that the only reason?”

Theron raised an eyebrow. “That’s not enough?”

“Theron.”

Of course she was on to him. Of course she’d long since figured he armored the tender places with sarcasm. And still she settled for gentle nudges, not rushing or demanding openness faster than he was comfortable giving it. Even now, even with _this._ Kriffing hell, he loved this woman. And openness was the only damage control that had any hope of working here. So he hesitantly laced his fingers between hers, heart skipping a beat when she didn’t pull away.

 “I... had nightmares. Every night. The same damn thing every time.” His gaze dropped to rivet in the floor, just the memory crushing and awful. “You, walking away from me, and no matter how fast I ran, how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up.”

Her breath caught and she squeezed his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.

So he pushed on. “Between the two, I was terrified I’d as good as lost you, one way or another. And deserved it, too.”

Jaaide was silent for a long moment, her thumb running back and forth over his knuckles. When she finally spoke, the words were quiet and carefully chosen. “I won’t deny that the initial... moment on the train hurt. That did indeed cut deep. But I was having doubts before Lana and I were even off Umbara.”

“ _ **How?!**_ ” It had ripped his heart out to play the part so well, but his success-- _protecting her_ \--had hung on being convincing, so he’d done it. So well it had destroyed him, but apparently not as well as he’d thought. “I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself for that, how can you...?”

“Call it gut instinct things weren’t what they seemed. Blind faith, if you’re feeling less charitable. Like Lana and Jorgan and I’m sure half of the other Alliance membership.” She snorted softly and Theron caught her smirking when he dared a glance in her direction. “Knowing you’re a damn good shot and wouldn’t have missed from that close unless you were trying to certainly factored in.”

He toyed with pointing out that was an awfully big gamble to hang on her faith in his marksmanship, but then realized it was actually hanging on her faith in _him_ and couldn’t breathe for a minute. “I thought I was the risk taker here,” he said hoarsely when he found his voice.

“It didn’t feel like much of a _risk_ ,” Jaaide admitted. She tucked her hair back with her free hand. “Though Lana certainly thought it was. I was fairly certain well before Copero that you were up to something, were still on our side, and had your reasons for keeping us in the dark, and I could make that work.” Her lips curled in a wry smile. “Going in blind is something I’m used to.”

 _Ouch_. Intentional or not, the words stung. He’d been so determined to keep things between them open, the ‘straight up truth’ it had started as on Rishi a lifetime ago. But just like everything and everyone in her life, he’d pulled the rug out, left her acting on _faith_ she was doing the right thing. “Jaaide, I’m so sorry.”

“And I forgive you.” She squeezed his hand. “Just remember, in the future, that I’ve been a double agent _twice_. I’m very good at hiding my true feelings and projecting whatever is called for with flawless conviction.”

“I _know_ ,” Theron said wryly, stroking the heel of her hand with his thumb. “That’s why I’m worried you’re burying the reaction I deserve to protect my feelings or something. I don’t want you doing that, Jaaide. No matter how much it’s gonna hurt, I want you to be honest with me.”

She looked him dead in the eye. “I’m always honest with you.” He didn’t respond to that, couldn’t, and she smiled slightly at leaving him speechless as she added, “I’m more offended by the slight against my acting skills than anything. I could have made it look _very_ real if you’d had me in the loop.”

“Doubt I’ll be doing this sort of thing anytime soon”-- _or ever again_ \--”but I’ll keep that in mind,” Theron said, adding a note of amusement with some effort, mind still reeling from the straightforwardness of her words. _Always honest._

“That’s all I ask,” Jaaide said lightly. “Getting back to your question, though, I can forgive you because I already believed you hadn’t actually betrayed us. Our... rendezvous on Nathema wasn’t new information, it was vindication of my ‘blind faith’. And then...” She slipped her hand free of his and rested it lightly against his chest, almost directly over the still-tender scar. “Then I almost lost you right after I got you back and I... There will still be fallout, of a different kind, with this having been a risky undercover mission rather than a betrayal, but I’ll _happily_ run damage control for that if it means I get to keep you around.”

Well, that was promising. His throat still felt dry as the sands of Tatooine as he raised one hand to curl over hers against his chest. The weight made it _ache_ , or maybe that was just the questions sitting on the tip of his tongue. “So... I know I don’t deserve it, but... does this mean your idiot spy boyfriend can have another chance?”

Jaaide shook her head. “No.” And even as his heart started to drop because even if he deserved that, he thought this had been going well, she smiled and pulled his hand toward her. “Because you don’t need _another_ chance, Theron. You’re still on the first one. And I am always going to love you.” She brushed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “No matter what comes.”

Ironic that he’d survived taking a lightsaber pike to the chest only for _this_ to do him in. The overwhelming rush of joy tangled with relief was too much, and his hands shook as much as his voice when he finally managed a breathless, “Oh, thank the stars. You have no idea..”

Jaaide laughed, just a shade away from a giggle, as she released his hand. She turned and knelt on the bench, leaning in until her forehead touched his. “You said you’d do anything to protect me. Am I really supposed to be upset you’re a man of your word?” she whispered, just a hint of teasing relief in her voice.

“That’s one way to look at it,” he scoffed. “You are _incredible_.” He shifted half a turn to make their position more comfortable for her. “I _love you_ and plan on spending the rest of my _life_ showing you just how much.”

 _Careful, Shan, that almost sounded like a proposal_ , a snarky voice in the back of his head cautioned. The thought didn’t scare him as much as he’d thought it would.

Jaaide didn’t catch or was choosing to ignore the potential in his phrasing, which he appreciated, her fingers tracing the lines shaved in his hair. “Sounds good to me,” she murmured before closing the distance for a kiss.

Theron happily obliged, head still spinning at this resolution, better than he’d dared hope for. He wrapped his arms around her waist to tug her closer and ignored the twinge of complaint in his chest.

Sure there was still damage control to do; explanations given, more wounded pride salved, apologies issued, trust to be won back, and he’d help in any way he could.

But for now, all of that could wait. He needed to make up for lost time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> finally, it’s done! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I’ve been trying to figure out how Jaaide and Theron’s post-Nathema conversation would go since the content dropped(so, what, almost a year? OY), and even though Jaaide gave a rough potential outline a couple times, there was nothing solid until 3am Saturday. When these two started spouting dialogue like their lives depended on it. Thanks, guys. xD
> 
> Part of what took so long, tbh, was nailing down how mad/hurt Jaaide would be and what would top the list etc. And therein was my flaw: while my Consular is gonna feel this a lot closer to other Theronmancers I’ve seen people write, Jaaide’s background--and that lovely blind faith/gut feeling--meant she’d be way more understanding. Maybe a little too understanding; considering how plainly guilty Theron feels about the whole mess. And that’s when it hit me that she’d just roll with it(it’s a deep cover op, not a betrayal), to the point Theron would be mad that she wasn’t more mad bc he deserves it. THEN things started falling together. I still dragged my feet a little, to be sure this was really her feelings and not just an “easy fix” masquerading as an “oh, backstory” handwave sort of thing
> 
> I was planning to do it either Jaaide POV or switching, but when the muses started chatting, it was all filtering through Theron, so that’s the way it got written.


End file.
